


The Way Home

by Lycoriseum



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5167784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycoriseum/pseuds/Lycoriseum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A successful rescue mission has freed the Inquisitor from the clutches of red lyrium cultists, but the companions were not prepared to handle the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N** : Slight AU-ish. Non-canon storyline.

* * *

Burns were the type of wounds Cassandra hated the most. The itch and irritation were the first things her mind latched onto as she regained her senses. She shifted, feeling a large patch of tender skin at her ribs rub against the bandages. Her right arm was firmly wrapped up as well, and there were more bruises announcing their presence the longer she stayed conscious. The Seeker took measured breaths, fighting through the pain-induced haze to remember…the battle. It was a heated one: them against a mage cult, who had ambushed them on the road to…

Cassandra's eyes snapped open, memory sharpening her senses instantly like a bucket of cold water. She jerked upright, only to have her ribs protest in agony. She gritted her teeth, steadying herself and riding through the lance of pain from the sudden motion. It subsided after a while, and she painstakingly rose to her feet. Cassandra trudged toward the tent flap, hoping against hope that her memory was somehow inaccurate, that it was just a bad dream. That what had happened…

The sunlight blinded her the moment she lifted the canvass. Her hand came up to shield her eyes as she scanned the camp. No sign of her. No red-haired mage talking to the soldiers, or poring over requisition forms, or reading a book blissfully in a corner.

_Shit…shit!_

"Cassandra…"

"Where is she?" Cassandra rounded on Dorian, who had come up beside her. The Tevinter mage took a step back, anticipating what was to come.

"Cassandra, we couldn't catch up to them–," was all Dorian could explain before he was grabbed roughly by the collar.

" _You let them take Kathryn?!_ " the Seeker yelled, shaking the mage. "I sent you back for reinforcements! What were you doing, taking so long to–"

"Hey, hey!" Blackwall stepped in, wrenching Dorian from the Nevarran's death grip. Cassandra winced as she was pushed back, her wounds screaming in protest.

"Sorry about that," the burly man apologised, noticing the wince. He kept a steady hand on the Seeker to hold her back. "And please, let us  _not_  make a scene. It's not going to help matters."

Cassandra shoved his hand away, glaring at them both. Especially at Dorian, who made a show of straightening his collar and checking for damage. She held onto her side, trying to regulate her breathing.

"Do not worry, Seeker," Solas assured her, approaching to the trio. "We have already sent the scouts to pinpoint her location. Harding is leading the search, and I have spoken to my friends in the Fade for help. It should not be long until we are be able to locate the Inquisitor."

"How long have I been out?"

"Just a day."

"That's already one day too long."

"Come now, Cassandra," Dorian spoke up, finally satisfied with his outfit. He did not seem to bear a grudge for the manhandling. "Like our dear elf has said, it shouldn't take long before we locate her. In the meantime, we need to rest as much as we can before mounting our heroic rescue!"

"She has been taken by red lyrium cultists, Tevinter," Cassandra growled. "We have to get her back before they do anything to her."

They were probably already too late, she knew. The others did too; their heavy glances told all. There was no way the fanatics had spent all that time twiddling their thumbs and staring aimlessly at their prisoner. The thought of Kathryn under the mercy of her captors, with Cassandra unable to do anything…it was too much to bear.

"And we will, the moment we receive word of her," Blackwall promised, albeit sounding a little hollow. "But we have to be in top condition to face the mages again, and not carry wounds that reopen at the slightest movements. You're bleeding, Cassandra." He gestured at the growing spot of red on the Seeker's shirt, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We need to get you patched up again." Blackwall steered her gently but firmly toward the tent, and Cassandra did not resist.

Oh, she would be in top condition, she promised herself. She would make them pay. For every wound, every hurt they inflicted on Kathryn, she would pay them back in kind.

_Ten times over._

* * *

The mages screamed as lyrium burnt in their veins. They fell to the ground one after another, where they were all finished off by the rest of the party. All but one. The woman was dragged to her feet like a ragdoll and slammed against the wall, head bouncing painfully against dirty stone. She met the Seeker's furious gaze with a smirk.

"Where is she?" Cassandra hissed, tightening her hold on the mage.

"Who?" the mage laughed, only to have herself slammed against the wall again. Her eyes went out of focus.

"Where is the Inquisitor," the Seeker repeated through gritted teeth, her question sounding more like a command. Every word a threat. Her blood boiled as her victim laughed maniacally yet again.

"The Inquisitor," the mage answered, a condescending smile on her face. "Is no more."

Dorian, Cole, and Varric winced in unison when the cackling woman was thrown across the room, landing on a table that fell apart under her weight and momentum. They kept quiet as Cassandra stormed over to the mage and pressed the tip of her sword against the pale, lyrium-marked throat.

"I will not ask again," the warrior warned dangerously, pressing her blade deeper. A thin trickle of blood ran down the mage's neck. "Where. Is. Kathryn."

"She is no more," the mage repeated herself, her smile widening into a fanatical grin. "She is no longer  _your_ Inquisitor, your Herald of Andraste. She has seen the light, and is one of us now." Her voice grew louder, laced with almost-religious fervour. "She is  _our_  Saviour, the one who shall lead us into–"

Her words ended in a burble, the sword buried deep in her throat.

"Well now, anyone knows how to pry information from a corpse?" Varric dared to ask, putting on his usual nonchalant air. The tightness in his voice, though, gave him away.

Cassandra growled dangerously at the dwarf's remark, but any potential outburst was fortunately prevented by Cole.

"Hunger. Pain. Ecstasy. I need power. The rush of thunderstorms, waves of crimson pouring through me. I am unstoppable. Give. It. To.  _Me!_ "

"And whose mind are you reading, dear boy?" Dorian asked, as Cassandra turned to the blond in confusion.

"Kathryn," Cole replied. "She is hurting. Deeper than bone. Torn from reality, dancing on the edge of madness."

An acute trill of anxiety surged through Cassandra.

"You can sense her? Can you tell where she is? Is she near?"

"Yes. Below us, through many doors and mages."

"Then what in Andraste's name are we waiting for?!"

* * *

The heavy wooden door flew off its hinges the moment Cassandra's boot slammed into it. The warrior held her sword and shield at ready, taking stock of the enemies in the room, who stood protectively around…around…

Her gaze fell upon the captive mage in the middle of the room. Kathryn was kneeling on the floor, her head bowed, long hair obscuring her face. Her wrists were shackled above her head, attached to chains from the ceiling – the only things supporting her weight. Her blood-stained clothes were ripped and torn in many places, and there was no sign of the armour she usually wore. The Inquisitor did not seem conscious – she made no movement whatsoever even after the ruckus.

Rage that had been simmering within Cassandra finally exploded in a ruthless charge at the group of mages. Her first victim's skull cracked hard against the metal, and the second suffered a blade through his gut. The third tried to throw a toxic-looking spell, but it was nullified by the Seeker, who cut his throat without second thought.

The battle was heated, but short. Dozens of spells were thrown across the room, crossbow bolts buried deep into vital spots, and deadly blades drank the blood of many. Once the room was clear, only the Inquisition was left standing. After ensuring their foes were well and truly dead, Cassandra hurried over to Kathryn. Shield and sword clattered to the floor as she knelt in front of the mage.

"Kathryn?" the Seeker called, gently tilting up the face that had haunted her for the past three days. Her voice died in her throat.

Kathryn's complexion was drained to an unhealthy pale-greenish pallour. There were dark bruises and cuts on her jaw, cheeks, and lips. But what truly made Cassandra's heart sink, were the thin red tributaries glowing on her skin. They were not as harsh as those on people who had consumed red lyrium for a long time, but it was bad enough.

"Bastards," Varric spat at the sight.

"They gave her red lyrium," Dorian stated, kneeling next to Cassandra and examining Kathryn closely. "Trying to turn her into their 'Saviour', perhaps. Whatever that is supposed to mean." His fingers hovered close to Kathryn's face, above the red veins. "It seems three days is enough for physical changes to manifest– _ow!_ " Kathryn's arm landed squarely on his head. The Tevinter mage held onto the limb and glared up at Cole, who had unlocked the shackle holding her in place.

"Sorry," Cole said simply before moving onto the other shackle. This time, he made sure to hold on to Kathryn's arm and handed it carefully over to Cassandra. The Seeker frowned at the torn, irritated skin on her wrists where the shackles had bitten and chafed against.

"We should bring her back to camp immediately," the Seeker stated, wrenching her eyes away. "The soldiers can handle the rest of the fort." She did not wait for a reply. Gathering the inert body in her arms, Cassandra stood and strode quickly back the way they came. The party followed close behind her, with Cole carrying the Seeker's sword and shield.

* * *

"Execution is the best option, I feel. This man has already been driven mad by his consumption of red lyrium, and keeping him alive would only waste our resources. He was their leader's right-hand man, anyway. Not much of a chance that he'd work with us," Cullen thought aloud, fingers drumming on his sword's hilt. "Perhaps a public execution would discourage any future attempts on the Inquisitor's life…at least for the time being. And it would show that the Inquisition is not to be trifled with."

"A private judgment and execution would be better," Josephine disagreed. "A public one would raise concerns about Kathryn's health, and her ability to continue leading the Inquisition. Word is already spreading that she has been tainted by red lyrium –I have received a few letters inquiring after her wellbeing. A public display would only confirm their fears and the Inquisition's reputation would suffer."

"I agree," Leliana chipped in. "A private execution, and we can take care of any subversive… _elements_  to stop – or at least slow – the spread of rumours."

"Very well," Cassandra spoke finally. "Cullen, work with our spymaster and see to the mage's execution. Leliana, take care of the rumour-mongers and possible spies. Send your own agents to track down the remnants of these cultists. And Josephine… do whatever it is that you do."

The advisors nodded in unison, grim resolve lining their faces.

"If there is nothing else, then we shall adjourn," Cassandra declared, picking up her own parchments from the war table.

Josephine drifted over to the Nightingale, pulling her into private conversation. The commander quickly gathered his things and joined Cassandra on the way out.

"I worry for Kathryn," Cullen sighed, keeping his voice low.

"I know. We all do."

"Of course. I just meant that–" He shook his head. "I hope the lyrium hasn't had time to run its full course."

Cassandra clenched her jaw, opting to stay silent. She had lost sleep at the thought of losing Kathryn to the substance. The red markings on the mage's skin had faded somewhat, and the healers found no evidence of growths on her body, but still Cassandra was worried. There was no telling how Kathryn's mind had been affected by whatever had been done to her.

"That is still a–"

"Seeker Pentaghast, Commander! Just in time." A voice rang out the moment they stepped into the throne room. A healer walked up to them eagerly, his face alight with hope, albeit with a tinge of anxiety.

"What is it?"

"The Inquisitor. She is stirring. We believe she is about to wake soon."

The Seeker's eyes widened, and she made a beeline for Kathryn with Cullen close at her heels. Taking the stairs a few steps at a time, Cassandra did not slow down until she entered Kathryn's quarters proper.

There was another healer sitting by the mage's bed, gently coaxing her to consciousness. Kathryn's brows were furrowed, and her breaths erratic. Her lips trembled, muttering garbled words that ran into one another. Her complexion, which had recovered much of its colour over the past few days, had regained its sickly pale shade. As Cassandra grew closer, the healer noticed her approach. The older woman nodded and stood, allowing the Seeker to take her place.

"Kathryn," Cassandra said softly, taking Kathryn's hand in her own. Slim fingers twitched restlessly in her hold. "Can you hear me?"

A whimper left the mage's lips, her head turning in the direction of Cassandra's voice. Shortly after, her eyelids slowly fluttered open. Kathryn's gaze took a while to come into focus, before resting on Cassandra. She stared at the warrior for a moment, then uttered her first word.

"You."

An odd greeting. The happiness that flitted through Cassandra's chest was promptly crushed when Kathryn shot up and away from her. The redhead pushed herself back against the headboard in panic, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Kathryn, relax–," Cassandra started, hand reaching out to the Inquisitor, only to have it slapped away viciously.

"Get  _away_  from me!" Kathryn's voice cracked. Her eyes reflected the hysterical quality of her voice as she jumpily examined everyone in the room.

Cassandra put up her hands slowly.

"Kathryn. Listen to me. Relax. You are safe now," the Seeker calmly intoned, inching carefully over to the disheveled woman who stared at her warily. "We are back in Skyhold." She reached out her hand again. "Let us he–"

" _No!_ " the mage screeched, unleashing a telekinetic blast that blew Cassandra off the bed.

Cullen – thank the maker for his reflexes – caught her in time and kept her upright. Hastily shaking off her disorientation and Cullen's concern, Cassandra returned her gaze to Kathryn and felt her heart drop. The mage was now on her feet by the bed, but she leant against the wall heavily, obviously lacking the energy to keep herself straight. That was not what made Cassandra worry, however. The thin red veins on Kathryn's skin had started glowing – traces on her hands, clavicles, neck, and especially around the edges of her face. Telltale signs of magic were swirling about her hands.

Years of training kicked in. Cassandra surreptitiously gathered her nullification ability. To her side, Cullen's hand came to a rest on his sword's hilt, but the Seeker stopped him. He looked at her questioningly, and she replied with a shake of her head. The commander's lips thinned, obviously biting down a protest. A severe frown creased his forehead. Cassandra knew he was frustrated, unable to use his templar abilities without lyrium. She half-expected him to defy her silent command, but he nodded, jaw set.  _I have your back._

Taking a deep breath, Cassandra took slow, measured steps toward the unstable mage. Her heart ached at the sight of Kathryn looking so petrified and paranoid, shaking as though she were caught in a snowstorm.

"Kath–" A bolt of red lightning lashed past, uncomfortably close to Cassandra's shoulder.

" _Go away!_ " Kathryn screamed.

"Cassandra!"

She heard Cullen run toward them. Cassandra tried to motion him to stop, but it was too late.

"Get away from me, you  _templars!_ " The air around Kathryn rippled dangerously as she summoned yet another spell.

Cassandra needed no more prodding. She let loose a wave of cleansing energy just as Kathryn exploded with telekinetic rage. The Seeker was thrown off her feet, and the last thing she felt was the brutal collision of her head against the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

All eyes fell upon Cassandra the instant she burst into the dungeon. The Seeker scanned the cells, but it did not take long to identify where Kathryn was being held. The jail never housed very many criminals, and the templars stationed outside her cell were a dead giveaway. Cassandra's brows drew together dangerously as she marched over to Cullen.

"You threw the Inquisitor into the  _dungeon_ , Commander?" Cassandra growled.

Her fierce glare was returned resolutely by the ex-templar, who squared his shoulders.

"I don't relish the idea of keeping her here, Seeker," he replied. "But it is a necessity. She is unable to control herself. It is here that we are better able to watch her. She will not hurt anyone else, or cause any more damage."

Cassandra gritted her teeth, hating that she understood the rationale behind this. But…

Her eyes found Kathryn, who was huddled in a dark corner of the cell, farthest away from the templars. Her arms were wrapped tight around her knees, her head bowed low. Traces of red lyrium were still visible on her skin, but they were not burning as bright as they did before. Kathryn's entire body was still shaking noticeably. She muttered to herself, occasionally emitting a whine or sob.

"She needs help," Cassandra muttered, walking up to the bars. Kathryn gave no indication that she noticed the Seeker's approach. In fact, she acted as if nothing else existed beyond the bars. "Not this."

"This is the best we can do for the moment," said the Commander. "Just getting her in here was no mean feat. Even after you nullified her abilities, we had trouble subduing her. Wouldn't stop kicking and clawing at us. I had to knock her out. And after she awoke, well…" He gestured helplessly at the cell. "She's been like this ever since. We've tried to get close, but she reacted violently each time."

"Because you are templars."

There was a sudden rustle and clinking of armour they turned to where Cole stood. They stared at him in surprise, wondering when the waifish figure had entered their midst.

Cole continued, unperturbed by their reaction. "Only templars have tried to touch her, bring her back. She doesn't like templars."

"But Cassandra–"

"Cassandra is a templar. A templar without lyrium. Different, but still the same. And dangerous. More dangerous." Cole paused, his hand reaching up to clutch at a cold metal bar of Kathryn's cell. "She knows you are here. But she wants you to go. All of you."

"We cannot do that." Cullen seemed indignant at the idea. "If she lapses into another…'bout', we need templars here to ensure she doesn't hurt herself."

"You are making her hurt," came the simple reply.

Cullen turned to Cassandra for help, but her attention was on the templars stationed around her. Six armoured figures to watch over one mage. Kathryn often told her of how she felt like a prisoner back in the Circle. Like she was thrown in there for a crime she did not commit. The templars would scrutinise them suspiciously, ready to bring their charges back in line at any faint hint of foul play. Cassandra had taken her words with a pinch of salt, as the mage had a tendency to overdramatise her stories. But now, faced with this sight… She could not help but hear the ring of truth behind Kathryn's words.

"Very well," Cassandra spoke finally, hoping that she made the right choice. "There will be only two templars standing guard by the entrance at all times." She raised a hand to stop Cullen's protest. "And the Inquisitor shall only be approached by Inquisition soldiers. Is that understood?"

The commander's lips parted, but he pressed them together again. He nodded and motioned for the templars to follow him towards the entrance, where he started to disseminate orders.

"You don't have to worry."

Cassandra blinked, realising Cole was addressing her. The boy was still staring at Kathryn, as though searching for something he could not find.

"Pardon?"

"You don't make her hurt as much as the others." Cole paused, tilting his head. Then the blond turned to her. "You don't have to feel guilty."

"Even though I'm still hurting her?"

Cole regarded her for a moment, before turning back to the Inquisitor. He gave no answer.

* * *

She found Dorian and Cole outside Kathryn's cell the next day. They were sitting close to the bars, Dorian reading a novel aloud while Cole sat next to him silently. The prison warden stood at his post uncertainly, unsure whether he should chase the pair away. Upon noticing Cassandra's arrival, he snapped to attention.

"What are you doing?" Cassandra asked when she got close to the pair sitting on the floor.

"Reading," Dorian stated matter-of-factly, waving his book at her for emphasis. "Would you like to sit in? We're just getting to the climax."

" _Why_  are you reading here, of all places?"

"It brings her back," Cole supplied quietly.

Cassandra's disapproving frown lightened when she noticed that Kathryn had opened up a little from her tight huddle. Her back leant against the wall behind, while her head rested on the cold stone to her right. The mage had not acknowledged their presence yet, her eyes staring blankly at a spot in front of her. But it did seem as if she was listening.

"Maybe you'd like to lend us some of your books, Cassandra," Dorian said with a smirk. "They might excite her even more."

The Seeker bristled at the prodding, but decided to let it go. Dorian had thrown himself into a deep study of lyrium after learning of Kathryn's condition, even working past his reservations to cooperate with the ex-Circle mages. She had caught him burning the midnight oil in the library multiple times, while she was exploring Skyhold during sleepless nights. The man cared, as much as he tried to hide it for some reason.

"Have you found anything new?"

"Unfortunately, no. Skyhold's library is deplorably limited – which is no surprise. Leliana and Josephine have promised a delivery of materials within the next few days."

Cassandra sighed, crossing her arms. "Even so, should you not be doing something useful? I do not see how reading inane stories would help."

"Actually," Dorian clarified. "I am testing a theory of mine." He placed a marker between the pages and closed the book, rising to his feet. "Have you not noticed how differently Kathryn acts from other red lyrium addicts?" At a twitch of the Seeker's eye, he continued. "Compare her anger to the red templars and mage cultists we have seen so far. Does she seem much more… _fiery_  than all of them? Manic, even. I've seen her fight the templars who dared enter her cell. It was as though she does not have control over herself… She was positively primal."

"Is that not a side effect of red lyrium? Insanity eventually takes over its long-term users…" Then it clicked. Partly.

Dorian saw her brows rise and smiled. "That's right.  _Long_ -term users. Three days should not be enough time for the lyrium itself to affect her cognitive abilities to that extent. So that leads us to the quantity that she was subjected to." He fidgeted with his moustache with a finger, pacing with a far-off look in his eyes. "I do not believe that she was given an extensive amount of red lyrium. No human body would be able to withstand that sort of exposure or ingestion. Even if they survived, I do not believe they would behave this peacefully at any time." He nodded at Kathryn, who had huddled into herself once again. "So we arrive at trauma. It may be the shock of whatever has been done to her, the exposure to lyrium." His voice dropped to a hush. "But…"

"Yes?"

The mage glanced at her briefly before plunging on. "Well, she  _was_  captured by a mage cult. And if they were planning to use Kathryn for their own plans, they should have known she wouldn't submit. Not willingly. So blood magic seems to be the next logical conclusion."

"You suspect they tried to control her?"

Dorian nodded. "And we did rip her away from the cultists. They could have been trying to change her, dominate her will or even suppress her personality. But we interrupted mid-way. I am not very sure of it though." He folded his arms. "It is difficult to tell whether she was under their control – whether she still is under their control." He kept silent for a while, eyes fixed on Kathryn.

"Do you have the cell's key?" Dorian asked suddenly.

"No," Cassandra replied, casting a glance at the prison warden. "Why do you want it?"

"I want to go in."

"It is dangerous."

"Maybe. But I want to try something." Dorian held his hand out towards the warden.

The warden looked unsure, his hand straying to the key at his side, glancing at the Seeker as though seeking her approval. She nodded, and he quickly dropped the key onto Dorian's palm. The mage twirled the key between his fingers before slipping it into the lock. As he opened the door, Cassandra placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you need backup?"

"No," Dorian said, shrugging her hand off and opening the metal door. "I perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

He took cautious steps towards the Inquisitor, who had her eyes closed. The short walk was uneventful, and Dorian kneeled down beside Kathryn. The mage stirred at her visitor's presence. He reached out for her, only to have his wrist caught in a fierce grip. Kathryn's eyes snapped open to see who was trying to touch her.

"Good afternoon, Lady Trevelyan," Dorian greeted, his tone light. "Had a good nap?"

Kathryn stared at him longer, before her lips parted, "Dorian…" Her voice was dry, and cracked at the end. She coughed and let go of Dorian.

"Do you need water?"

"Yes."

The Tevinter mage promptly rose to his feet, striding over to the door and motioned for the water jug sitting on the warden's table. The warden jumped into action, pouring the jug's contents into a mug and handing it to the mage. Dorian went back to Kathryn's side, handing the mug over to the woman, who took it eagerly. Her hands trembled as she held onto the mug, though, so Dorian held onto it to steady her as she took quick sips. A soft, satisfied sigh left her lips when she was done, and her grip on the mug loosened. Dorian placed it on the floor beside him.

"How are you feeling?"

"I don't know," Kathryn uttered. She leaned forward, hand cradling her forehead. "I'm so…" She let out a shaky breath.

"Do you remember what happened, Kathryn?" Dorian prompted after letting Kathryn think a few moments.

"I don't know. I…can't remember. Just–just pain…and blood and lyrium. No, I–I don't know!" Her voice rose in frustration. The traces of red on her skin started glowing more intensely.

"It's alright. You don't have to remember now. Just relax and–"

"It's so noisy. He won't stop talking. Get him to stop!"

"Who? Who won't stop talking?"

"Stop!" Kathryn clapped her hands over her ears, starting to rock back and forth. "Dorian. Help. I can't…"

Cassandra could not take it anymore. She took a step forward, and Kathryn's head whipped up in her direction. Her eyes were wide as they stared at the Seeker, panic and confusion reminiscent of their exchange the previous day. Dorian turned, frantically motioning for her to step away. Before Cassandra could react, Kathryn lunged viciously in her direction. But she did not get far, as Dorian grabbed her around the abdomen to keep her in place.

"She will kill us, Dorian!" The Inquisitor hands were starting to crackle with energy. "She will gather her comrades and slaughter all of us like cattle. They have to be stopped! Killed before they kill us!" Her voice reached a fevered pitch as the gathered magic intensified. She struggled in Dorian's unyielding hold, arms flailing past the man's head, as though trying to claw at Cassandra from where she was.

Cassandra prepared a spell purge in anticipation. But it was thankfully not needed as Dorian shoved Kathryn back. Shock marred her features as she hit the wall, and her surprise grew as Dorian placed his hands on either side of her head.

" _No!_ " Kathryn scrabbled against the Tevinter mage's hands, which emitted a calming green radiance. "We have to–stop…" Her struggle gradually lost steam, hands sliding from Dorian's arms onto the floor. Her voice faded away as she slumped forward, drifting into magically induced sleep.

Cassandra strode into the cell, helping Dorian lay the Inquisitor back onto her bedroll. She swept Kathryn's disheveled hair from her face as Dorian shook his hands, hissing.

"We could give her a nail trim while she sleeps," he suggested, examining the red scratches on his dark skin.

"What was the point of that exercise?" Cassandra demanded, pulling the thin cover over Kathryn.

"It wasn't obvious?" Dorian replied, raising his brow at her. "She did not try to scratch my eyes out the moment she saw me. It is rather safe to say that she hates you. Or, people like you. Templars and Seekers alike."

"And this is because of what the cultists did to her?"

"I believe so." He rubbed at his chin, eyes glazing over. "A 'Saviour'. Saviour of mages… Interesting."

"I hear him."

The pair turned to face the waifish blond standing right behind them. He stared at the slumbering Inquisitor, head tilted, with a crinkle between his brows.

"It is faint, but I can hear him. He speaks through the Fade."

"Can you make out what 'he' is saying?"

"No. I cannot catch the words."

"Is this some form of mind control?" Cassandra asked Dorian.

"It does seem like it. But this is not a method I am familiar with. I know of mind control through blood magic, but through the Fade? Hm. Is it because of distance?" Dorian mused. "I will need more time to think this over."

"You can speak to her," Cole said.

"Pardon?" Dorian looked at the boy curiously.

"In the Fade. Kathryn is in the Fade. Still fighting. You can speak to her, help her. Help her resist his call."

Cassandra glanced at Dorian, feeling a little lost.

"But to speak with her in the Fade, we would have to dream first. And we do not have control over what or where we dream. Unless we have a dreamer mage or…" He snapped his fingers as the idea hit him. "Solas. Of course. Well," Dorian jumped to his feet, looking excited. "Time to ask the Fadewalker's help."

* * *

"It can be done, yes. I am able to send you into Kathryn's dream – she will need to be asleep, of course."

"Done," Dorian answered. "I just sent her to sleep."

"Very well." Solas uncrossed his arms. "Who shall make the trip?"

Cassandra and Dorian exchanged glances, then looked to Cole.

"You are a spirit, Cole," Cassandra said. "You should be rather adept at walking through the Fade."

"I am. But I will not go," Cole said, to the surprise of his companions. "Cassandra should."

"What?" the Seeker said incredulously. "She tries to attack me whenever I am in sight, and now you want  _me_  to go look for her in the Fade?"

The blond nodded. "She will not hurt you in the Fade. She is still herself. You can help her hurt less. Give her Faith."

"I… but I am probably the least qualified to do this," Cassandra protested weakly. "I am not as well-acquainted with the Fade as the rest of you."

"That is no problem, Seeker," Solas assured her. "This journey through the Fade will not be much different from what you have experienced in your own dreams. The only difference is that you will be fully aware of your actions. Should you be in danger, I will bring you back before you are harmed. Do not worry."

The Seeker sighed, rubbing her temple. "Very well. I will do it.

* * *

It was odd. Thoroughly odd. Cassandra stood in place, taking stock of her surroundings. At first glance, it seemed she was in a forest just like any other. But if she looked in the distance, things started to blur, with a faint tinge of red all over. The sky, trees, grass, everything. And…the voice. When she concentrated enough, she could hear the faint murmurs of a man. She could not make out any words, like she was eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for her ears. Maybe this was what Kathryn mentioned while she was awake.

_Kathryn_.  _Right_. The Seeker shook herself mentally, fighting past her disorientation to focus on her goal. She ignored the way the trees shimmered and faded subtly about the edges and started walking, casting her eyes all over in search of her quarry. After half an hour's trek, Cassandra could not help but suspect that she was lost. Was Kathryn's dream truly so vast that it was possible to lose her way? She tried some tracking techniques she had picked up, looking for signs that others had passed through, but made no headway. Everything was so unnaturally clean and proper. Just when frustration set in, she stumbled upon a narrow forest trail. She followed the path, still keeping among the trees – just in case – and eventually reached a clearing. It was mostly empty except for a small campsite near the edge, sheltered under the shade of a large tree. There was a tent set up, and tending to the campfire was none other than–

"Kathryn!" Cassandra called, throwing caution to the wind and bursting out of the trees. As she grew close, she noticed that Kathryn looked well – there was no sign of red lyrium anywhere on her body. Her demeanour seemed as carefree as it was before her abduction. Except for the tense, guarded expression that hardened her countenance the moment she saw Cassandra. The mage immediately grabbed her staff and held it at ready, shifting into the battle stance Cassandra had seen a hundred times before.

"Stay where you are," Kathryn commanded. She stepped cautiously over to where Cassandra had halted. The crystal at the tip of her staff started to shimmer with a budding spell. "What are you?"

" _'What'_  am I?" Cassandra asked. "Kathryn, it's me. Cassandra."

"Right…it's you. What kind of spirit are you? Or," she raised her staff higher, the crystal taking on a more dangerous hue. "Are you a demon, sent by Erwen to fuck with me again?"

"What are you talking about?" Cassandra asked again. She took a step forward, but stopped when the mage thrust out her staff threateningly.

"Do not play coy with me. It is an insult to–"

"What is going on?"

A new male voice entered confrontation. Cassandra took her eyes off Kathryn to examine the newcomer. A mage, judging from his robes and the staff strapped to his back. Blonde hair meticulously combed back with not a single strand out of place. His strong jaw was held high. Dark brown eyes fixed upon Cassandra, examining her with lukewarm interest. He showed none of the distrust that Kathryn harboured.

"What is she, Marcus?" Kathryn directed the question towards her companion. Not once did relax her defensive posture.

"She is human, Kathryn. Just like you. This is no spirit."

"Are–are you sure?" The Inquisitor finally took her eyes off Cassandra to glance back at Marcus. "But how could she have reached here? Even if she is just dreaming, it can't be this much of a coincidence…"

Marcus remained silent for a while. His eyes roved over Cassandra and around the clearing. "Ah. I see. Magic. A mage sent you here."

The Seeker nodded.

"That means… Solas?" Kathryn's staff was lowered now, much to Cassandra's relief.

"Yes," Cassandra replied. "He sent me here so I could speak to you. Actually, Cole was the one who insisted. He said you needed help here?"

Kathryn stared at her mutely. Her staff fell to the grass with a soft  _thump_. The next thing Cassandra knew, Kathryn had launched herself in the Seeker's direction, wrapping her arms tightly around Cassandra's shoulders. Cassandra forced herself to relax in the hold – Kathryn had tried to attack her twice, after all – and circled her arms around the mage's waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Maker, it felt as if an age had passed since she held Kathryn, who was not trembling or too weak to stand. Who could return an embrace with every fiber of her being. Who would smile and nuzzle into her neck, sighing in satisfaction. It had been too long.

"Oh Maker, I've missed you," Kathryn declared as they broke apart. A smile grew on her lips as she gazed at the Seeker. The admiration lasted a second before the smile started to fade. "And I am so sorry. I'm so sorry for attacking you. I tried to stop myself, but I couldn't. Did I hurt you?"

"No, it is not your fault," Cassandra reassured her. "I am fine. But I cannot say the same for you."

"I do hate to interrupt a touching moment such as this, but," Marcus interjected, clearing his throat lightly. "I believe introductions are in order?"

The Inquisitor rolled her eyes in amusement, pulling herself away. "Come on, Marcus. You don't recognise her? Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker, Right Hand of the Divine. And Cassandra, this is  _Lord_  Marcus Renold," she gave a mock bow to the man. "Of the Circle of Ostwick. There. Happy?"

"A pleasure," Marcus bowed his head.

"Likewise."

The man cocked a brow. "Such composure in the presence of a dead man. Very impressive."

"We've been to the Fade before. I told you, didn't I?" Kathryn gave him a light shove on the shoulder. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly in response.

"Ah yes. Where you met the late Divine. Or rather, the spirit posing as the Divine." Marcus waved his hand nonchalantly. The Seeker started to get the impression he did not much care for her, despite the pleasantries.

"You  _are_  a spirit, aren't you?" Cassandra asked.

"Of course. Something that you are rather familiar with, as I am told…and can see." He looked the Seeker over from top to bottom. "Faith's touch is upon you. Nothing but true devotion could have summoned forth such a spirit." Marcus crossed his arms and turned his gaze towards at the sky, searching. "But I believe idle chit-chat can wait. Your sleep cycle is about to end, Seeker. And I can feel Erwen's filthy influence crawling towards us again."

"Erwen? Kathryn mentioned this name as well. Who is this?"

"The bastard who tortured and experimented on me," Kathryn growled. Loathing dripped from every word. "The leader of the mage cult. He wanted to turn me into some sort of weapon, to destroy the templars and  _'reign over those god-fearing cowards'_ , as he puts it. I never really paid him much attention. I could not, not even if I wanted to. I was in so much pain, so occupied with fighting his influence…" She pinched the bridge of her nose hard, her free hand straying towards Cassandra, who took it immediately.

"Do you remember what he did to you? How he carried out his experiments?"

Kathryn frowned, keeping silent as she sifted through her memories. Then she shook her head in defeat. "Not exactly, no. All I remember is…he tortured me in the beginning. Tried to persuade me to join his cause, to 'free the mages'. But when he realised I wouldn't budge, he used blood magic. He forced a phial of red lyrium down my throat first. It–I was not prepared for it. I couldn't think straight. All I was aware of was fire burning all the way down to my stomach and in my veins. Then there is this horrible, incessant singing."

The mage squeezed her eyes shut as she recounted the memory. Her fingers gripped onto Cassandra's hand until it started to hurt. As she spoke, Cassandra realised their surroundings started to grow darker. Shadows appeared on the edges of the clearing first, and started creeping outwards. The sky became overcast. Then a subdued red shade started bleeding into the darkness, just as a discordant singing rose in volume. Cassandra recognised it: the quiet hum she heard whenever they came close to a red lyrium cluster, but it was clearer this time. Like a demonic choir singing its own twisted hymn in the distance.

Alarmed, Cassandra grabbed Kathryn by the shoulder and shook her, trying to break her out of…whatever this was.

"Kathryn, stop! Open your eyes!"

But she gave no indication of having heard Cassandra. Her breathing started to grow heavy, and her hand started to tremble even in Cassandra's firm hold. Panic took over the Seeker, but reprieve came when Marcus shoved her to the side and held the mage's face in both hands, which started to glow a bright blue. To Cassandra's surprise, the shadow's progress was immediately halted.

"Come back, Kathryn," Marcus said slowly and clearly. "Follow the sound of my voice."

He repeated the words again and again, always in the same patient tone. Kathryn grabbed onto his arm as though it were an anchor. Gradually, light broke through the skies again, and the shadows retreated from where they came almost grudgingly. The horrible chorus of song returned to its muted hum. The deep furrows between Kathryn's brows grew lighter, and her breathing more even. The hand Cassandra still held onto had loosened its vise clamp. Finally, the Inquisitor opened her eyes, and the glow from Marcus's hands died away.

"Thanks," Kathryn said gratefully as the man stepped back. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"What was that?" Cassandra asked.

"Nothing. Just a memory lapse." The mage ran a hand down her face, looking a little exhausted. "If I let myself get too consumed, this cosy little sphere in the Fade," she waved her hands at the forest surrounding them, "starts to get eaten up by the red lyrium in my body. Madness will follow. And Erwen gets a pretty little puppet to parade around as a 'Saviour'."

"Then, you've been keeping this up for a long time?"

Kathryn nodded. "Ever since I tasted red lyrium. This is the only way I could retain my sanity, my sense of self, between the lyrium and Erwen's blood magic." She scratched at the corner of her lip idly. "He tried to dominate my mind. Still trying to, but so far he's not been successful. Obviously. Marcus has been a great help." She gestured at the man, who merely cocked a brow at the acknowledgement. "Would you mind, Marcus? I'd like to have a word with Cassandra."

Marcus shrugged. Any trace of the concern in his demeanour during Kathryn's lapse was gone. "As you wish, my lady." With that, he walked into the forest.

"That spirit is too damned accurate in portraying Marcus," Kathryn muttered. "Could use a less snooty companion here."

"But you cherish him, don't you? The spirit would not have assumed his form otherwise."

"Doesn't mean I don't feel like kicking his ass sometimes," the mage sounded wistful despite her words. "But he was always there for me. Rather fitting that he's here as well." A sigh. "Let us get down to business first, shall we? Marcus did say we have little time left. So, where was I? Ah yes, the lyrium. Erwen weakened my defenses with it, and he used blood magic to try to control me. That was when I created this safe space in the Fade, to preserve myself and resist his influence. Ever since then, my connection with reality has been few and far between. Even when I am awake, I cannot truly tell what is happening. Everything is a haze. Even when Dorian managed to speak to me before, I could just barely recognise him. It is as though I am trapped in the someone else's body, with a mind of its own, and I cannot control its impulses. Especially when there are extreme surges of emotions. Like when I go crazy and try to snuff the life from you."

Kathryn shot her an apologetic glance. "All I know is this: he tried to control me, and has not given up. Even now he sends suggestions through the Fade, somehow. As for the red lyrium… I remember being 'given' it a few times, but I couldn't keep track, you understand. Speaking of which…" She turned to Cassandra, looking worried. "How is my body doing? Is it…still functioning properly?"

"Yes, you still look fine. The only signs of your consumption are the red veins on your skin."

"Right. That is good to know. I guess." She sighed again.

"We have the best mages and healers working on a cure, an antidote, whatever that will help to bring you back. You will recover, Kathryn. Do not worry."

The mage gazed at her through hooded eyes. Her lips parted, but no words came. She settled instead for patting Cassandra's shoulder, giving an unconvincing nod and smile.

"I won't. If they have you breathing down their necks, I have no doubt they will think of something soon."

"Good to see you haven't lost your sense of humour."

"It helps to keep me sane." Kathryn crossed her arms, kicking at the soft grass lightly. "How's your progress with the cultists?"

"We've captured his second-in-command. But the man would not cooperate, so he will executed within the next day."

"What about the Erwen?"

"Still tracking him down. They left very little trace in their stronghold. Somehow the mages managed to remove anything that was important even though we launched a surprise attack. Until now, I had no idea of even their leader's name."

"That's…worrying. But understandable. Just keep at it. If you manage to stick a sword through his gut, all the better. I'm getting sick of hearing his voice all the time." Kathryn turned to face Cassandra again, and her eyes widened.

"Something the matter?" Cassandra asked as Kathryn strode hurriedly towards her. The mage grabbed her hands and held it between them, and Cassandra saw the source of her agitation.

Her hands – her arms, in fact – were starting to fade. The edges of her vision started to blur, and as she looked around, the forest started dissolve. The clearing was becoming smaller by the minute. Half of Kathryn's camp had faded into nothing.

"Cassandra. You're waking up soon."

"But I–"

"Shush. There's no stopping it. Just promise you'll take care of yourself, alright? You and the others. And…if you're able to come back, please do." Kathryn tightened her hands over Cassandra's, but the Seeker found that she could barely feel the other woman's touch. "I love you." The mage leaned forward. Cassandra felt the faint but familiar brush of their noses against each other–

Then she awoke, the ghost of Kathryn's lips still upon hers.


	3. Chapter 3

"Nothing."

Leliana tossed a short, neatly-tied stack of envelopes onto the ambassador's table. The action earned a quick reproachful glance from Josephine, but the Antivan opted not to say anything. Not when the spymaster looked like she would gladly shove a blade into an eye socket at the slightest provocation. Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose, already searching for more options in her mind.

"I must say, this is very odd," Josephine commented. She tapped the tip of her quill on the table. "Even though we have but a name to work with, we should have some sort of lead by now. His tracks are too clean."

"He must have some contacts. No one can cover their tracks like this," Cassandra insisted. "Not without help."

"I have no doubt that he has friends. But we need more time to identify these people."

"Much more. Time that we may not have the luxury to spare," Leliana added quietly.

It has been two weeks since Cassandra's venture into the Fade. Since then, Leliana and Josephine had pulled and forged many strings in their vast network of contacts. But even between the two of them, they had only unearthed the origin of the cult – a small village just three days away from the Temple of Andraste on horseback. The villagers vaguely remembered a man resembling Erwen's description staggering into town at dusk, wounded and pale. His four companions were in similar condition, and the villagers took them in, patching them up and providing food. A week passed before the village found out they were mages and grew anxious. They wanted no part in the war, so they sought to shorten the mages' stay. This did not sit well with Erwen, who then launched into a passionate rant. Something about mages being oppressed and wronged, and that templars were the ones in the wrong. No one could remember exactly what he said, but he left the village in an angry huff with his group, promising their return. Leliana's agents were still sniffing out for clues in neighbouring villages.

"What about forcing them to come to us?" Cassandra thought aloud. "We could create a commotion – send our people to big cities like Denerim and Redcliffe. Issue a challenge they have to acknowledge in some way."

"I do not think that will endear us to the public. Especially not when we may incite potential bloodshed on their territory," Josephine countered. "It will make us look like common chest-thumping thugs."

"I agree. But Cassandra has a point," Leliana said. "We are making too little progress trying to track them down. Luring them out is worth an attempt, at least… But not with a big commotion, no. That would be too obvious a bait. We need something that challenges the cult at its core, something that Erwen cannot ignore."

"All we know so far, is that they are mages who use red lyrium to augment their combat capabilities. We  _could_  strike out at their identity as mages." Josephine said, her brows now furrowed in thought.

"Possibly. But we need time to think this through." Leliana placed her hands behind her back, her eyes shining with a determination that was absent at the beginning of this meeting. "I will have a plan ready in a few days." Her gaze lowered thoughtfully, before meeting Cassandra's.

"Cassandra. Will you be speaking with Kathryn in the Fade again?"

"I…suppose I will. Why?"

"I need to ask a favour of her."

* * *

"She wants me to  _talk_  to Erwen?!" Kathryn asked incredulously, staring at Cassandra in disbelief. "I've been holding that asshole at bay since forever, and now I'll just let him in for a little chat? Is that it? Should I prepare some tea and scones, perhaps a few dancers for entertainment?"

"Let me finish," Cassandra replied, motioning for the mage to calm down. "Leliana wants to understand what kind of man he is, or at the very least his motives. Why he raised a cult, and why he kidnapped you."

"Oh, I can answer that: because he's  _insane_ , that's why." Kathryn folded her arms, turning away from Cassandra. "Doesn't take a bloody genius to figure that out."

"I am sure that you are aware of this, Seeker," Marcus cut in. "But to come in close contact with Erwen puts Kathryn in higher risk of being overpowered by his magic. Your spymaster does understand what she is asking?"

"Yes. We all do," Cassandra snapped. Her patience was already wearing thin. A calming hand on her shoulder curbed her temper, and she diverted her attention towards Kathryn instead. "Leliana wants information. She says if you could goad him into being careless and taking action, then all the better. But I don't like this. The risk is too great. If I could decide, I would not allow you to do this. But it is up to you."

A sigh. "If you'd asked this earlier, it would've been easier. But I've started to feel the strain, Cassandra. The longer I hold on, the more I feel my control slipping. And if I let Erwen any closer, I…"

"You can take some time to consider. We don't want to push you into doing something you're not prepared for–" She stopped abruptly when Kathryn's grip on her arm tightened.

"No, I can't afford to waste any more time," she said, her lips set into a grim line. "I will do it, but we will have to do it soon."

Cassandra then proceeded to lay out the details of Leliana's plan for Kathryn, who kept silent and nodded slowly. A small part of her wished Kathryn would interrupt and reject the idea, but it did not happen. She was about to face down a dangerous foe alone, where Cassandra could not be, not if they wanted the plan to work. The situation was slowly slipping out of the Seeker's hands, and she did not like it.

* * *

The air was tense in the jails. Leliana and Cassandra outside Kathryn's cell, watching Dorian and Solas through the bars. The two mages laid magical precautions around Kathryn – both to ensure her safety and theirs, should things go wrong. Lysette – assigned as Cassandra's backup – stood at a distance from them, as a precaution at Dorian's insistence. Cole sat near the cell, eyes never leaving Kathryn. The Inquisitor's red lyrium markings had disappeared over a week ago, to their relief, but she remained in a daze, consumed with her struggle in the Fade. It had been difficult, watching her sit alone in the dark cell day after day, like a human shell with only hints of a soul remaining.

Cassandra resisted the urge to fidget with the hilt of her sword, and instead locked her hands behind her back. She watched impatiently as the mages double-checked their magic. She did not like this – she did not understand half of what they were doing right now. There were so many unknown factors and risks. So many ways that this plan could go awry. Cassandra glanced at Leliana out of the corner of her eye. The spymaster stood closer to the bars, arms crossed, scrutinising the mages intently. If she felt uncomfortable about the state of things, she did not show it.

Finally, the lights within the cell faded away. Solas stood, turning to face the women outside the cell.

"We have finished laying the safeguards. Now all that is left is for us to wait."

* * *

Kathryn took deep, measured breaths to calm herself down. She was having too much trouble with that, though – every time she thought her head had cleared, her pounding heart brought the gravity of the situation back to her in full force. What she was about to do ground against her every instinct. The thought of letting the cult leader in after fighting against his influence for so long… It galled, even disgusted her. Just the faint prodding of his mind against hers was enough to make her hairs stand on end. Letting him in would not be a very enjoyable experience. But if doing this meant she could get this man out of her head as soon as possible, then she was willing to do it. It was Leliana's plan, after all. If anything, Kathryn trusted her spymaster to have considered every single facet of the plan. She just hoped she had enough strength left to push Erwen out of her mind when they were done.

A small green wisp floated over, bobbing in front of her. It had been sent to her at Solas's behest – the signal that her companions had completed their tasks. She could feel their magic's presence bolstering her own. Now it was her turn.

She cast a look at Marcus, who stood ready beside her. He nodded, and Kathryn took one last deep breath. Gathering her courage and strength, she focused on the shield around them, feeling it in its entirety – including the incessant probing of Erwen's mind. A sense of revulsion ran through her again, but she suppressed it. She had to do this. Slowly, she let a small spot in the shield thin out. The foreign presence promptly latched onto it, digging eagerly into the weakness like a parasitic worm. Kathryn gritted her teeth as the presence broke through her defenses.

Their surroundings changed the moment Erwen entered their sphere of influence. The bright sky darkened, soon joined by thunder crackling in the distance, lightning flashing bright red among the clouds. The winds picked up, carrying a sinister howl on its currents. Kathryn could see shades of red creeping up towards her and steeled herself. Any time now–

"Inquisitor."

Erwen materialised before them without ceremony. He looked absolutely prim and proper – dark robes with nary a crease in them, short brown hair streaked with grey combed neatly back. Unfathomable grey eyes calmly levelled with hers. His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a subtle venom that made Kathryn's hairs stand on end. Memories of her captivity involuntarily flooded back.

"Bastard."

The word flew right off her tongue without her meaning to, but Kathryn felt no regret at the slip up. Her anger only grew when Erwen threw his head back and laughed.

"I supposed I deserved that, don't I?" He clasped his hands behind his back, fixing her with a steady, scrutinising gaze. He kept the eye contact a moment longer before looking at Marcus. "You are the spirit that has been helping her."

Marcus nodded in acknowledgement, matching the man's composure. "And you are the maniac who has been trying to control her."

Their adversary cocked his head at the accusation, a faint smile forming on his lips. He brought his hands forth, looking like a circle enchanter ready to give a lecture.

"Wrong. I am but a fellow mage trying to open your eyes." His deep black eyes rested on Kathryn's. "I am a man deeply concerned about all the blood being spilt needlessly all over Thedas – the blood of my brothers and sisters. I see my people being hunted by mindless Chantry hounds just for being born the way they are, for craving freedom from the Chantry's grasp. Inquisitor–" He stepped closer towards Kathryn, who refused to move an inch. Her fingers tightened its grip on her staff.

"Kathryn. I know your desire is the same as mine: for mages to be free. You have already taken a step in the right direction by making the mages your allies. But that is not enough. You know in your heart that when Corypheus is dead, and a new Divine ascends the Sunburst Throne, mages will be shepherded back into circles. They will revert to being sheep watched over by the templars. Is that what you want?"

"No," Kathryn relented. "But changes will be made. The circles will not be the prisons that they used to be, and the templars will no longer be our wardens. They will be turned into a place of learning. I  _will_ do everything in my power to ensure that it is so."

Erwen shook his head, taking a few steps back from Kathryn. "How naïve. I believe it was… Ah, yes. It was Seeker Pentaghast who told you that, wasn't she? Well now, don't look so surprised. I  _was_ in your head for a few days." He began to pace like a teacher in front of a blackboard. "You are letting your emotions cloud your judgment, my dear Inquisitor. Have you not noticed how many of your soldiers were templars? In fact, your commander was one, a very _…passionate_  one _._  How many of them would throw mages back into Circles when this crisis is over, I wonder?"

"If you are trying to make me doubt my own people, I can assure you–"

"Oh, but I am not. These are  _your_  doubts, Kathryn. I am merely giving voice to them."

She started to protest, but realised it would be futile. He was speaking the truth, albeit twisting it with his own words. She hated him even more for it.

"Even if your desire is the freedom of mages, it still does not explain your actions. Why fight the Inquisition, especially when we are the ones trying to defeat Corypheus? We have already accepted the circle mages as our allies, and they stand with us against the chaos. If you want the people to accept mages, then join us. You can make a difference with us, show that mages do not have be feared. Doing all this," she gestured at the dark red landscape around them. "Would just undermine your own goals."

"On the contrary," Erwen interjected. "This is but the first step. You are a very important figure in my plans, Kathryn. I need you. And I wish the Inquisition to remain intact and strong – I need it to be so. It will be the weapon that will see to the destruction of Corypheus, and after that…the Chantry."

"And thus the madman's true ambition is revealed," Marcus quipped.

"Madman," the mage repeated the word, as though gauging its accuracy. "Yes, I suppose it would take a madman to tear the Chantry down. But don't you see? We mages will never be free from prosecution as long as Chantry dogma exists. We will never be truly accepted as long as the Chantry preaches  _'magic exists to serve man'_! The Chantry has to  _die_."

Erwen caught himself. He shut his eyes and turned his face towards the sky, calming himself down.

"You do realise," Kathryn took advantage of his quiet lapse. "There are plenty of believers and templars in the Inquisition who will stand against you."

"Of course. But it will only be a simple matter of purging these malcontents, and replacing them with my own army of believers. Do not insult my intelligence this way, Kathryn." The ghost of a smirk hung on his lips. "You may hurt my feelings."

Kathryn snorted. "I could not care less."

"Ah, now you have wounded me."

"I have one question left," Kathryn said, brushing off his attempts at humour. "If you care so much for mages, then why do you subject your followers to red lyrium?"

"Necessity. The war with Corypheus has no place for soft hearts, Kathryn. If he is willing to use red lyrium to boost the strength of his troops, then I will not shy away from it either. It is a tool, and I will use it to give my people strength. If they lose their lives from lyrium exposure, then so be it. A noble sacrifice for a great cause. They will be hailed as heroes after we have earned our victory."

"You're insane," Kathryn spat.

"I may be," Erwen said patronisingly. "But your opinions about me will not matter much longer, I'm afraid."

A venomous smirk curved the corners of his lips. He made a short gesture, and a group of six mages – no, demons in the guise of mages – materialised behind him. They seemed to be made out of shadow, with a red lyrium shard at each of their cores.

"I will give you one last chance, Kathryn," Erwen warned. "Give me control, and I will make it painless for you. Fight, and I will shred your soul, your consciousness into tiny ribbons. Slowly."

"Go to hell."

Kathryn did not wait. With the flick of a hand, she set off the fire and lightning traps that Erwen and his minions stood on. The ground exploded in a wave of searing heat, throwing Kathryn and Marcus off their feet. A light shower of dirt rained over them as they scrambled back up.

"How disappointing."

Her heart dropped at the sound of his voice, still level as though nothing happened. Kathryn turned to find Erwen and his demons emerging from the residual cloud of energy, unharmed. Harsh motes of light started to swirl about them as they prepared their own assault.

Kathryn threw chain lightning in Erwen's direction, just as the entire area lit up with a frenzy of spells. The barrier that Marcus erected around them lasted but a few seconds, but it was enough. Sensing a lull in the barrage of spells, Kathryn willed her spirit blade into being and charged forth before the air had cleared. She caught a glimpse of Erwen's expression of surprise as she swung the blade in an arc before her – only to realise it had passed through thin air. The shock did not have time to settle in before a staff slammed into her side, knocking the air out of her lungs. Erwen had rushed past her with magically-bolstered speed and avoided the sword swing.

She did not have time to face him, however, as two demons closed in on her. The first already had its hand raised mid-spell, but Kathryn threw herself forward, thrusting the spirit blade through its red lyrium core. The shard shattered, and the demon disintegrated with a dismayed howl, just as its partner threw a force spell in her direction. For the second time, Kathryn was blown backwards. Her head hit the ground, and her vision blacked out for a moment. She came to just in time to see Erwen raise his staff over her, staff blade pointed downward. He thrust the weapon down, but was hit by a fierce blast of fire sent from Marcus's direction. The force of the spell propelled him backwards before he could pierce her flesh. She climbed to her feet hastily, anxious to regroup with Marcus, who still had his attention on her when two blades were stabbed through his chest from the back.

" _No!_ "

Marcus's face mirrored her own shock and pain as he fell to his knees. Kathryn threw an ice spell over his head which froze two demons, but was deflected harmlessly away by the remaining two. She started to run, but a dark twisted version of a spirit blade flew into her field of vision. She threw herself to the ground in a clumsy roll, avoiding the blade and casting a spell over her shoulder. She heard it sear into the demon at the same time a blade bit deep into the back of her leg. Kathryn stumbled but managed to keep her footing. She took one more step before she felt the staff blade pierce into her back and out through her chest, dangerously near the heart. The weapon was twisted viciously, eliciting an agonised cry. Erwen pushed the blade downwards, forcing Kathryn to her knees.

Black pinpricks appeared on the edges of her vision as she watched Marcus get thrown onto the ground. A demon crouched by him, and cast a spell right into his chest. The spirit convulsed on the spot, bloodied lips parted in a silent scream.

She did not have time to worry about him, however. The weapon lodged in her chest was ripped away, leaving her doubled over in pain. Blood blossomed across her robes and dripped onto the grass beneath. The beginnings of blood trickled onto her tongue. Fighting through the haze in her mind, she pulled on the Fade around her, trying to gather another spell. But her efforts were for naught, for it felt as if the magical energy was being pulled  _away_  from her. In fact, it felt as if all energy was being sucked out of her entire being. Her body became limp. But before she keeled over, a gloved hand grabbed the back of her neck, keeping her straight so that she was looking right at Erwen.

"What a pity that it has come to this…" Erwen whispered. The man almost looked remorseful as he gazed down at her.

"Goodbye, Kathryn Trevelyan."

* * *

Cole's sharp gasp startled everyone in the jail. He sprang to his feet, drawing his daggers.

"She has lost," said the rogue, stepping towards the Inquisitor.

Cassandra, alarmed at his intention, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him backwards. The blonde stumbled, casting the Seeker a confused look. But before she could question him, the mages kneeled before Kathryn rose to their feet and hurried out of the cell. Dorian swung the door shut.

"Lock it. Quickly," he told the Seeker, who slammed the lock back in place, twisted the key and withdrew.

Cassandra's heart hammered in her chest as Solas and Dorian cast a strong barrier spell around Kathryn's cell. Something had gone wrong. Leliana nocked an arrow in her bow. She heard the hiss of metal behind her, and knew Lysette had her sword and shield at ready. Cassandra's hand held the hilt of her sword in a tight grip, but she left it in its scabbard.

Her sense of dread grew when Kathryn stirred in her bedroll. They watched as the woman opened her eyes and sat up, examining her surroundings. Then she slowly rose to her feet and stretched, as though nothing had happened. Even from where Cassandra was standing, she could tell the woman was not herself. Her footsteps were too heavy, her back too straight. When Kathryn finally turned her attention towards her silent audience, a grin unfurling upon her lips, Cassandra knew.

Kathryn was gone.


End file.
